


Can You Keep A Secret?

by pikasafire



Category: Cobra Starship, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-05
Updated: 2010-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/pseuds/pikasafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cryptic viral campaign bullshit is driving Gabe nuts. Set just pre-Danger Days release.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Keep A Secret?

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://turlough.livejournal.com/profile)[**turlough**](http://turlough.livejournal.com/) for [](http://help-pakistan.livejournal.com/profile)[**help_pakistan**](http://help-pakistan.livejournal.com/) . Sorry for the wait! Spoilers for the new album. Also, magical!disappearing!bandom wives to avoid inevitable angsting. Told mainly through phone conversations, so dialogue heavy. Thanks to [](http://masterpenguin82.livejournal.com/profile)[**masterpenguin82**](http://masterpenguin82.livejournal.com/) , [](http://bootson.livejournal.com/profile)[**bootson**](http://bootson.livejournal.com/) and [](http://mizubyte.livejournal.com/profile)[**mizubyte**](http://mizubyte.livejournal.com/) for hand holding.

  
“So, what does it mean?”

“What?” Gerard’s groggy, still half asleep, completely bewildered by the trilling of his phone at, he glances at the clock, fuck, three-thirty in the morning.

“Your cryptic puzzle shit.”

“What?” The voice is familiar, so he’s pretty sure it’s not just a crazy fan, but he’s can’t quite place it. “Who-“

“Gabe.” He’s curt, impatient, “Now tell me.”

“It’s three-thirty in the morning, man.”

Gabe just makes a little dismissive noise down the line, “Whatever, this shit is driving me nuts.”

Gerard groans, runs a hand over his face and contemplates hanging up, “I can’t tell you.”

“Sure you can.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Pete told me when Fall Out Boy were doing the cryptic shit about their album.”

Gerard just snorts, sitting up, “Yeah? What did you blackmail him with? Plus, weren’t you helping with that?”

“I would never-“

“Actually, why didn’t you just call Mikey?” Gerard says before he can finish, fishing around on the floor for his slippers before getting up. If he’s going to be awake, he’s going to need coffee.

“Don’t interrupt me.” Gabe says, annoyed, “And, I did. He hung up on me.”

“So? Call back.”

“I’m not an idiot. I did. Fifteen times. He’s turned his phone off.”

“Mikey never turns his phone off.” Gerard argues, shuffling into the kitchen and digging around for the coffee and filters.

“Yeah, well, apparently fifteen times is his limit. So, if I were you, I’d give in now.” An expectant silence.

The silence stretches.

“Well?” Gabe says, frustration leaking back into his voice.

“Huh?” Gerard’s focussed on the coffee maker in front of him, dripping precious life juice slowly into the glass pot

“Oh, for fucks _sake_.”

“Look, you woke me up at three thirty in the goddamn morning to ask inane questions, sorry if I’m not exactly mister _perky_.”

“What is all this transmission shit on your website about? And the twitters?”

“Can’t tell you.” Gerard repeats, around the cigarette he’s fished out of the packet in the kitchen drawer. He picks up his coffee mug and shifts to settle himself on the couch.

“Don’t fuck with me, Way. This is driving me crazy. I’ve been looking all over the fucking internet.”

“Huh.” He takes a drag, “What are they saying?”

“Three twitters, right?”

“Four. So far.”

“Four? Fuck. What’s the other one?”

“Can’t tell you yet. That one gets released today.” Gerard will admit he’s having a little bit of fun.

“I will _break your face_ ” Gabe huffs, “Okay, so _four_ twitters, this transmission rubbish, seriously what the hell is with that creepy mouse? Then the website changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, what does it _mean_?”

Gerard shrugs, even though he knows Gabe can’t see him. “You’ll have to wait like everyone else.”

“Fuck you.”

The click of disconnection and Gerard grins a little to himself, leaning forward enough to toss his phone on the coffee table before slouching back against the couch cushions.

*

“Gabe called me last night.” Mikey says when Gerard answers his phone.

“I know. He called _me_ after.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Mikey says, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Liar.”

“What did he want?”

“Same thing he wanted from you, probably. To know about the album.”

“Did you tell him?” Mikey asks. Gerard can hear the clicking in his ear that means Mikey’s put him on loudspeaker and is texting as he talks.

“Do I look stupid?” Mikey snorts. “Don’t answer that,” Gerard sighs. “ _No_ , I didn’t tell him. Obviously. Stop fucking texting. That clicking’s annoying.”

“Whatever.” But the noise stops. A pause. “So what did you want?”

“You called _me_.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, so Gabe called me. But, if he’s bugging _you_ now, that’s cool.”

“Uh. No. It really isn’t.”

“He’s persistent.” Mikey says, entirely unnecessarily.

“Oh, really?” The sarcasm’s dripping.

“Don’t be such a drama queen. Just ignore him.”

“You’re not the one being called at three am.”

“I know.” Mikey sounds far, far too smug. “Have fun with that. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” A pause, “Or, maybe, don’t do anything, I _would_ do. Trust me.”

Gerard doesn’t have time to ask what the fuck that even _means_ before Mikey’s hung up. Gerard just rolls his eyes. Whatever.

*

“I’ve got it!”

Gerard groans, phone pressed to his ear, rolls over to check the clock. “Gaaaaaabe. It’s four am.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’ve got it!”

Gerard just sighs and sits up. There’s no point arguing. “Yeah?”

“VMA’s right? The numbers on the radio thing line up. Or some shit. I don’t know, it’s on LiveJournal. Some kid with far too much time on their hands. But, you’re gonna debut the single, right? At the VMA’s this Sunday?”

“Mm.” It’s non-committal, and Gerard can feel himself starting to drift back off to sleep.

“Fall asleep on me, fucker, and I’ll kill you.”

“I’m a pacifist, you know that right?”

“Why should that matter?”

“You can’t kill a pacifist. It’s like… kicking a puppy.”

“You’ve met me right?”

“Point.” Gerard sighs, “Look, can we do this tomorrow? I’ve got an interview in, like… three hours.”

“If you didn’t want to be bothered, you shouldn’t have this puzzle shit all over the Internet. Or! Or, you could just _tell_ me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Then you’re going to be bothered. Possibly fifteen times a night.”

Gerard rolls his eyes and hangs up, tossing his cell on the pillow next to him. It’s silent for about three seconds before it starts trilling obnoxiously. He ignores it, burrowing his head in his pillow. It falls silent, and Gerard breathes a sigh of relief, until, about two seconds later, it stills buzzing again.

“Oh for- _What?_ ”

“You hung up on me.”

“Yes. Because you called me at four in the fucking morning.”

‘It’s rude to hang up on people.” Gabe informs him, and promptly hangs up.

*

Gerard picks up on the second ring this time, not even bothering to check the caller ID. “You deliberately call in the middle of the night, don’t you?”

“Yup. It’s a pain to work out, actually. Also, KLSK is playing music now.”

“Yep.”

“It wasn’t before.”

“I know. You don’t need to _tell_ me this shit.”

“So, what does it mean?”

Gerard just makes a little negative noise and Gabe sighs, frustrated.

“Okay, first ‘Horse With No Name’ and now ‘Goodbye Horses’ What the fuck is with the horses?”

“It’s nothing.” Gerard doesn’t even try to sound convincing.

“Nothing, meaning you wont tell me, or nothing, meaning it doesn’t mean anything, you’re just a sadistic prick?”

“Neither. Both.”

“Hate you. So much.”

The click of disconnection and Gerard grins at his phone, setting it on the nightstand and settling back into his blankets.

*

Gerard’s gotten so used to midnight calls that he’s a little confused when his phone rings in the middle of the day, Gabe’s number flashing on the screen.

“Where are you?” Gabe demands.

“Uh. At home?”

“And by ‘home’, you mean the VMA’s right?”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to listen to the Internet?”

“Where else would I find porn written about myself? That shit’s hot.”

“You’re fucked up, Saporta.”

“And apparently you’re fucking Mikey.”

“Oh, God, shut the fuck up, _please_.”

“Look, I bought a ticket and everything. You better be there.”

“Bought?” Gerard snorts.

“Bought, was given. Whatever. I’m going to go see what the fuck this puzzle bullshit you guys are pulling is about. So, you better get your ass down here and _tell_ me.”

“Sorry, man. Didn’t you read the twitters? We put a note up once you told me that a ton of people were expecting us.”

“Figured it was a lie.”

“Nope.”

“Don’t make me cut a bitch,” Gabe says, and hangs up. Gerard stares at his phone for a moment. What the hell did that even _mean_.

  
*

Gerard has come to expect that Gabe will call him eighteen times a day. He isn’t however, expecting his doorbell.

"You weren't at the VMA's." Gabe announces, standing on the doorstep.

"Uh. No? I said we weren’t going to be." Gerard just stares at him. "What are you doing here?"

"You weren't at the VMA's."

"Yeah. You've already said that."

"Well, clearly, that's why I'm here. That's when it was supposed to happen."

"What was?"

"You tell me." Gabe scowls, "Don't you know it's rude not to invite your guest in?"

"Uninvited guest." Gerard points out, but steps to the side to let Gabe past. " _Annoying_ guest."

"The Internet said everything was supposed to happen at the VMA's. I even bought a ticket just to see it."

"Liar."

“Whatever. The fact is, I was there. You weren't."

"Yup. Told you so." Gerard doesn't seem nearly as concerned with this as Gabe thinks he should be. "Coffee? I'm assuming you're not planning on leaving anytime soon. Anyway, you follow my Twitter. And the puppets. It was on there that we weren't attending." He heads toward the kitchen, leaving Gabe trailing behind.

"The Internet is never wrong."

"As you said, the Internet says I’m fucking my brother, so I beg to differ."

"Tell me what the fuck is going on."

"With Mikey? Nothing, dude. Ew."

"I will _bitch slap_ you."

Gerard sighs, pours some coffee into a mug and shoves it into Gabe’s hands. "No, you won't. Your hands are full of coffee."

"I'll throw it at you."

"I won't make you a new one." Gerard counters, leaning one hip against the table. "Why is it bothering you so much?"

"Because you won't tell me."

"And you're, what? Five?"

"Six." Gabe says, grouchily. "I don't know what all this fucking secrecy is about. I'm a _friend_ , man."

Gerard looks slightly more convinced and he thinks for a moment. "I can't." he says, but there's a hint of reluctance. Gabe is harder to resist when he’s right _there_. "It's the whole bands secret. Not mine."

"You expect me to believe one of the others is Dr Death Defying?” Gabe rolls his eyes, “Oh, please. Unlikely. Don’t make me torture it out of you."

"Torture is very ineffective. Not to mention the information people get under torture is notoriously unreliable."

“Trade you for a blow job.”

Gerard chokes, snorting coffee up his nose, “What the fuck?”

Gabe just grins, “I’m good.”

“You’re offering me a blow job in exchange for… information about the album?”

“Yeah. Seems like it.”

“I – uh. No, thankyou?”

Gabe just shrugs, takes a sip of his coffee. “Your loss. You’ll give in eventually.”

*

Gerard waits until Gabe’s gone before calling Mikey. “Gabe just turned up on my doorstep.”

“He does that.”

“He just offered me a blow job in exchange for information about the album.”

“Yeah. He does that too.” Mikey seems completely unsurprised. “Did you take him up on it? He’s good.”

“Okay. One? Ew. I never needed to know that about you and Gabe. Ever. Two? Of course I didn’t!”

“What? I’ve just heard.”

“Yeah. Sure. Just like Frank’s porn magazine pages totally stuck together ‘on their own.’”

“They did! Dude, not even _I’m_ gross enough to jizz on someone else’s porn.”

“Ugh. Stop talking. Please.”

“You called _me_.”

“Yes! To tell you about Gabe! About which, you’ve been entirely unhelpful!”

“Seriously, Gee. He’s not going to let it go.”

“The album thing? Well, he only has to put up with it for another few weeks.”

“No, you _idiot_. You think he offers blow jobs to anyone?”

“Don’t call me an idiot. And, uh. Yes? He’s _Gabe_.”

“He’s not as much of a whore as he likes to pretend.” Gerard can practically hear Mikey’s grin, “and he liiiiiiiiiiikes you.”

“Fuck off. You’re not five.”

“Gabe is actually going through the effort of keeping track of the time in LA so he can call you at the most obnoxious time possible. It’s like true love.”

“You’re an asshole.” Gerard says, and hangs up before Mikey can hang up on him first.

*

“So, 2019. Desert. What the fuck was with that surveillance footage? That’s fucked up, man. Thought you were off the drugs.”

“Shut up.” But Gerard grins, eyes still closed as he stretches, yawning. “Fuck, what’s the time this time?”

“Six. Almost a civilised hour.”

Gerard snorts softly, curling back up in his blankets, phone pressed to his ear “From the side of not having gone to bed yet, maybe. You’re evil.”

“So, you went out in the desert with a mouse head on.” Gabe says, like Gerard never said a word, “that’s dedication.”

“Who said it was me? It could have been Mikey.”

“Pfft. I know what Mikey’s ass and walk looks like. Totally wasn’t him.”

“Ugh. Don’t talk about my brother’s ass.”

“Should I talk about your ass? It’s a pretty nice one.”

“Um. _No._ ”

“My ass then?”

“Really, really, no.”

Gerard curls up tighter, smiling to himself. He doesn’t enjoy these conversations. At all.

Gerard lets Gabe continue to babble for five minutes about the latest Twitter updates before interrupting. “You know, you’ve stopped asking me about the album. Now you’re just telling me about the clues. You realise I know them all, right? Like, you don’t actually have to call me to make sure I know.”

“Yeah. Point?”

“I don’t know, you tell me the point behind these bizarre phone calls at all hours of the night.”

“You tell _me_ about the album.” Gabe counters.

“I _can’t_.”

“Exactly. So, I am just making sure I have all the clues right. Speaking of, what’s with the guy in the skates?”

Gerard just sighs. There’s no point arguing, he tells himself. It’s not like he _enjoys_ these calls or anything. “He’s a character.”

Silence for a moment, “... _and_?” Gabe says impatiently.

“And that’s all I can say at the moment. Seriously, you don’t have to wait much longer.”

“Then tell me now.”

“His name’s Show Pony. But, that’s all. _Really_.”

“HA!” Gabe crows down the line, “Victory!”

Gerard stares at his phone for a moment after Gabe hangs up. _Weird_.

*

“You’re so much more fucked up than I originally thought.” Gabe actually sounds admiring, and Gerard laughs a little, voice still rough from sleep.

“Saw the trailer then, did you? What did you think?”

“Lookin’ good, Way. Sweet costumes. But, I hope you know I’m not waiting ‘til the 22nd of November.”

“Well, you’re going to have to, because that’s when the album comes out.”

“No.”

“… You can’t just say ‘no’, you know. It’s not going to make me release it any sooner. I _can’t_ release it any sooner.”

“But you _have_ the CD, right? Like, it’s finished?”

“Yeah. We’re just finalising art work this week, but the music’s all done.”

“Great. Open your fucking door.”

“I- what?”

“Open your _door_. It’s windy out here.”

“You’re outside my house? That’s fucking creepy, man.”

“Well, if you open your fucking door, then you’ll see that yes. I am outside your house.” His sarcasm is biting, and so Gerard flicks his phone closed, tosses it on the pillow next to him and drags himself out of bed.

“You hung _up_ on me.” Gabe says, glaring at him accusingly as he opens the door.

“I hang up on you all the time. You coming in?” Gerard doesn’t even bother to wait for an answer, “Shut the door on your way. In or out. Don’t care. Need coffee.”

Gabe, in an act of surprising compassion, is mostly silent, waiting until Gerard’s half finished his giant mug of coffee and is looking slightly more awake.

“So,” Gabe says, “Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”

“Because you’re annoying?” Gerard suggests.

“Ha fucking ha. I have a proposition for you.”

“Mm-hm?”

“We should have sex.” Gabe announces. “I’ll even let you fuck me.”

“Uhhh...” Gerard stares, incredulous, but he can feel his cheeks flush. Fucking pale skin. “I - no? Bad plan?”

“Oh, please. Don’t even try to be coy. Everyone wants me.” Gabe grins, “besides, you’re blushing.”

“Well, you certainly don’t suffer from low self esteem then.” Gerard says weakly, as Gabe crowds him.

“False modesty is annoying,” Gabe informs him, hands shoving Gerard’s hips back against the kitchen counter, “now stay there.”

“Gabe-“

“And shut up.”

Gerard stares, mouth open as he watches Gabe sink to his knees, fingers pulling at Gerard’s pyjama bottoms. “I’m also good at this,” Gabe says, with a smirk. “Did Mikey tell you?”

“Oh God,” Gerard groans, but he relaxes a little, letting his weight sink against the cupboards, “if it’ll shut you the fuck up, then by all means, go ahead.”

Gerard thinks it’s probably not his worst idea, but it’s most definitely not his best. He can’t exactly think of any reasons right now though. Too early for things like rational decisions. And Mikey _wasn’t_ lying. Ugh. He does NOT want to be thinking of his brother right now, so he reaches down, threads his fingers through Gabe’s hair and tugs, “Jesus. How much fucking hair-gel do you use? it’s like... plastic.”

Gabe stares at him, pulls off enough to talk. “What the fuck are you doing talking about my _hair_ when I am giving you the blow job of your _life_?”

“Um. Sorry?”

Gabe just rolls his eyes, redoubles his efforts until Gerard is gasping in front of him, knees trembling, trying desperately from keeping his hips bucking into Gabe’s face, and it feels so fucking good, it’s not going to take long at all, he’s shaking, flushed and then Gabe pulls away.

“This deserves a song, you know, just in the interest of full disclosure before I finish.” Gabe thinks about this, “you finish. Whatever.”

“I- what? Why the fuck did you _stop_?” Gerard says weakly, knuckles white as he clutches at the counter to keep himself upright.

“A song.” Gabe insists and Gerard just nods, no fucking idea what he’s talking about.

“Whatever,” Gerard says impatiently, “shut up now,” and pulls at Gabe’s hair until he returns to sucking Gerard’s brain out through his dick. Gerard’s right - it’s not very long at all until he’s hunched over Gabe’s head, fingers tugging tight in his hair, “Ah, fuck _fuck_!”

“Ow,” Gabe says pointedly, easing Gerard down to the kitchen floor, pushing him flat on the tiles and kissing him roughly. “Me now.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, give a guy a moment to recover,” Gerard complains, but shifts so he can kiss Gabe back, one hand sliding under the hem of his t-shirt.

“You owe me a song,” Gabe says. “Suck me off, then you owe me the song.”

“What?” Gerard says, but his free hand is already working on the button on Gabe’s jeans. “Choke me and I’ll bite you,” he warns, “I have to be able to sing tomorrow.”

“Like that stopped _you_ ,” Gabe bitches, but it’s hard to argue when Gerard’s pushing him, wriggling down and sucking him off, so Gabe lets it go.

*

“Song now.” Gabe says, when they’ve both caught their breath, lying on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor. “You agreed.”

“You’re going to _hold_ me to that?”

“Yup.”

“Dude, promises made during sex don’t count! Everyone knows that!”

“Show me, or I’ll... do something truly horrible. Don’t be a promise breaker, Way. Or, I’ll be forced to kill you.”

“You - I. Fuck. I am not going to enjoy telling the guys why you’ve heard the music already.”

Gabe supposes Gerard’s trying to make him feel bad, but he just shrugs, unconcerned “pay up, fucker.”

*

Gabe grins as Gerard presses stop, the final notes of ‘Na, Na, Na’ fading away into silence. “Next one!”

“I agreed, under coercion, I might add, to _one_ song.” Gerard objects. It’s not worth it, and he knows it, he’s just resisting for the sake of it now.

“Fine. I will perform one lewd sex act for every song you let me listen to.”

“Gabe, you don’t even _like_ our music.”

“Sure I do. I just say I don’t to piss Mikey off. Also, you’re missing the _point_.”

“Which is?”

“I’m not supposed to hear it yet. That makes it even more awesome by default. Also, you said no, and I got my way anyway.”

Gerard snorts, “You’re still five on the inside, aren’t you? How much of this harassment was  
you actually wanting to hear the music, and how much is you hating secrets and being told ‘no’.”

“About half and half,” Gabe says easily, sprawling out on the carpet. “Next song now, bitch. And also, you forgot the half that just wanted in your pants.”

“That... doesn’t make a whole. That makes a whole _and_ a half, loser.”

“Shut the fuck up and put the music on. Or I won’t let you fuck me.”

“Oh, woe,” Gerard says, deadpan, “how devastating.” But he presses play anyway.

*

END  


  
.


End file.
